There's a lot to love about this little can-do Warehouse District newcomer with the achingly pretty views of the Minneapolis skyline and the aw-shucks modest menu of gourmet bargains, like cracker-crusted pizzas topped with caramelized onions and sweet talleggio cheese, or antipasto plates brimming with Fra' Mani salamis and esoteric Italian mostardas. The place has wine knowledge to burn: The list is stocked with hand-crafted, small-run, small-vineyard offerings from all sorts of corners of the world: the farthest reaches of the Italian boot heel, the steepest valleys of Portugal, the most esoteric productions of the American West Coast. Can't say we mind that glass prices start at $6 or, really, that there are high-end bottles for folks who know the true value of a small-production boutique bottling and are willing to pay for it. On top of that, the servers are sweet, attentive, and blissfully low-key. The room is sexily dim, but spacious. Frankly, the only complaints we've ever heard about Toast is that people can't find it and they don't have a parking lot. If that bugs people, we hope they stay away.